Sparkles and Sprinkles
by absolutelyheartless
Summary: In this real-world AU, Cath's entire life revolves around pleasing her demanding mother, from her career as a paralegal right down to the clothes she wears. A magician certainly doesn't fit anywhere into her mother's plans- but he might just be the beginning of an impossible journey.
1. Chapter 1

A hammering woke Cath from her sweet, sweet dreams, and she groaned. "What…"

"You're going to be late for work if you don't hurry up," Mary Ann called through her bedroom door. Cath lifted the corner of the pillow off her head long enough to check the time.

"It's only 7:15!"

"If you don't get up soon, we won't have time for breakfast. Especially not enough time to make those lemon-ricotta pancakes… I suppose I'll just have to eat all that extra lemon curd myself."

Cath bounced out of bed and hurled open the door. Mary Ann had barely processed the movement before Cath walloped her in the head with a pillow. Mary Ann threw up her hands and Cath grinned at her, swinging the pillow menacingly.

"That's what you get for threatening to eat my lemon curd."

Mary Ann sighed, trying to prod her hair back into its braid. "I get an extra pancake as recompense for that. I'm trying to look presentable, unlike someone." She gave Cath's bedhead curls and mismatched pajamas a pointed look.

Cath spun on her heel and tossed her pillow back on the bed. "If you get out the ingredients, I can be ready in five!" she called over her shoulder, and Mary Ann saluted.

"Will do!"

True to her word, Cath was out of the bathroom in four minutes and forty-three seconds, according to Mary Ann, and soon she was whirling around the kitchen, upt to her elbows in sugar and flour and lemon zest.

"You've gotten flour all over your shirt," Mary Ann reminded her as Cath flipped a pancake. She tested the spongy golden-brown texture with a finger and the corners of her eyes crinkled with pleasure. "Cath," Mary Ann repeated, a little louder, and Cath heaved a sigh.

"I'm getting it, I'm getting it," she grumbled, batting at her blouse with a towel. "Mother would be scandalized that I've gotten flour all over my work clothes."

Mary Ann snorted and spooned a dollop of lemon curd and fresh whipped cream onto her stack of pancakes. "That's what she gets for spending such a ridiculous amount on clothing," she muttered around her mouthful. She stabbed her fork in Cath's direction and swallowed. "But that doesn't mean you're allowed to go into the office looking like a wreck. We aren't college students anymore."

Cath lifted an eyebrow. "You never looked like a wreck, even when you were in college."

"That's because I was trying to look professional for the four jobs I was working." Mary Ann said it very matter-of-factly, but Cath felt a twinge of guilt anyway. She always tried to skirt around the fact that her parents had paid for her education while Mary Ann had been struggling to cover textbooks and housing deposits, but sometimes she still put her foot in her mouth.

Cath smeared lemon curd on her pancake and rolled it up like a burrito. She munched on her breakfast with one hand while she began rummaging through the fridge, which was stocked full of fun cheeses and fresh produce, bursting with colors and brightness. It made her happy just looking inside.

"You forgot you're meeting your mom for lunch today, didn't you?" Mary Ann pointed at the color-coded schedule on the wall, and Cath peered at her own red scrawl. To her disappointment, Mary Ann wasn't wrong. Cath stuffed another bite of pancake in her mouth, glowering, and Mary Ann hugged her from behind. "It'll be okay, Cath. Remember, she doesn't control you."

Cath sighed and rested her head back onto her roommate's shoulder. "I know she doesn't."

But the rest of the morning, while she was taking calls and sending emails, she thought she could taste the tang of her mother's perfume lurking behind the lingering flavor of the lemon curd. No matter how many bottles of her fruit-infused water she gulped, it wouldn't go away, and dread grew in the pit of her stomach. At 10:06, she wished lunch break would never come. At 10:08, she wished she could get it over with.

At noon, her phone lit up with a message from Mary Ann. I bought tiramisu ingredients for when you get home. They're waiting for you. Good luck!

Cath took a deep, steadying breath. Fortified by the thought of tiramisu, she left the office for lunch. Time to lunch with her mother.


	2. Chapter 2

She doesn't control me. She doesn't control me. She doesn't control me. Cath repeated her best friend's words over and over again in her head as she stared at the double-doors of the Rock Turtle Cove, her mother's favorite restaurant. Right. She could do this. Right?

"Pinkerton, party of two," she told the front-of-house, and the man didn't even look at his reservations before gliding into the gentle clatter. Cath trailed after him, trying her best to play the part of the daughter her mother always wanted. Back straight, no wobbling in her heels, making eye contact, moving with purpose. I can do this.

"Your table, miss," the man said, ushering her into a seat. Their table had a waterside view, and for a moment, Cath allowed herself herself to get lost in the glitter of the sunshine on the waves. I wonder if I could achieve that effect with crystalized sugar and meringue, she considered.

"Catherine, darling!" her mother cried, leaping up to crush her daughter into a hug. "You look lovely! I'm so happy to see you wearing those clothes I bought you. Aren't they so much better than those ratty old sundresses you had before?"

Cath swallowed the responses that rose to her lips and smiled. "I'm happy to see you so pleased," she replied truthfully. "How's Papa?"

Her mother waved a hand as she perched on the edge of her seat. "Oh, you know how he is. Head always in the clouds, scribbling away at his books. Couldn't care less about publishing or agents or any of that. If it weren't for me, we'd be living on the streets! Goodness knows, it's not an easy life I've got." She shook her head and picked up the menu. "I think I'll have the foie gras torchon with the cranberry and apple reduction. Would you like a salad?"

Cath blinked at the menu. "The beet salad looks good," she ventured, and her mother pursed her lips.

"I suppose so. There is goat cheese, though… I hope you haven't been stuffing down cheese in those ridiculous quantities again, Catherine. You know that's why your stomach is so bloated." She turned to the waiter and ordered a cocktail as Cath glanced down at her stomach. Was it really bloated? It wasn't flat like Mary Ann's, but nothing else about Cath was very flat either, so she hadn't considered it a problem.

"And for you, miss?"

"Just water, thank you," Cath said absent-mindedly, tugging at her blouse. Did she really eat that much cheese? Her mind flitted to the lemon-ricotta pancakes of the morning, and the tiramisu of tonight. A lot of her desserts did use cheese… Could she replace that somehow?

"Catherine!" Her mother snapped, and Cath flushed.

"Sorry, were you saying something?"

Her mother drew herself up, the spots on her cheeks glowing red. "I was, yes. I would appreciate it if you could listen. I was trying to tell you that I've arranged a date for you."

Cath's eyebrows knit together. "Another one?"

Her mother ignored that and sipped her newly-arrived cocktail. The waiter glanced at them expectantly, and her mother frowned at him, as though he'd intended to interrupt their conversation at such a crucial juncture. "One foie gras torchon, and one beet salad without the goat cheese, thank you. That will be all." She turned back to Cath. "His name is Jack. He's the son of some very influential friends of mine, and I expect you to be pleasant. He'll pick you up at your apartment on Friday, so make sure you're dressed nicely."

"Friday!" Cath spluttered. "Mary Ann and I had plans on Friday! We were going to see a magic show! We're celebrating her raise."

Cath's mother raised one eyebrow. "How lovely. Is she earning minimum wage now?"

The blood rushed to Cath's face, and she opened her mouth, but her mother cut her off before she could speak. "Don't make a scene in the restaurant, Catherine. It's really not becoming in the slightest. I'm only doing this for you, and I would like it if you showed a little more appreciation." Her features softened, and she leaned across the table. "Darling, you're not going to room with Mary Ann forever, are you? I know you're friends, but friends come and go. I want you to have some real stability in your life. It would make me feel so much better." She toyed with her Tiffany bangle so that the rubies winked at Cath. Cath felt an overwhelming urge to stick her tongue out in response, but she couldn't imagine her mother's horror if she did.

What could she say to that? Her mother only wanted her to be happy; that was all she'd ever wanted for her daughter. Her beautiful, successful, well-mannered daughter, who had everything except a husband.

Cath pressed her lips together. "I can make Friday evening work. But don't let him go crazy, Mama."

Her mother clasped her hands and beamed at her daughter. "For my girl? He certainly should go crazy!"

"What do you mean, Friday night?" Mary Ann asked quietly, levelly. She paused in the middle of straightening the couch cushions, so that one side looked terribly wonky. "As in, this Friday night?"

Cath poked one of the ladyfingers. It oozed coffee and rum onto her fingertip, and she licked it off. "I'm sorry, Mary Ann." She avoided her friend's gaze, opting to shuffle around in the fridge instead. "You know I can't say no to her."

Mary Ann folded her arms. "You're twenty-three, Cath." There wasn't any anger in her tone, only exhaustion.

"I'm sorry," Cath repeated, more sharply than she'd meant it to. "I already agreed, and she must have given him my number, because he's already texted me seven times since lunch."

Mary Ann's lips twitched. "Did you respond to him?"

"No! He just keep texting!" Cath scooped up a dollop of mascarpone and stuffed it in her mouth.

Mary Ann snapped her fingers. "I got it! You bring him to the show. I'll get us two more tickets and we can make it a double date."

"Are you sure?" Cath mumbled around her mouthful, and Mary Ann nodded.

"Absolutely. It'll be fun. With any luck, he'll get the idea that you're not interested when you and I are spending the whole night together. And I feel better about this anyway. I don't trust these guys your mother dredges up."

Cath grinned at her best friend. "You know you're amazing, right?"

Mary Ann rolled her eyes. "Sure. Now let's get cooking. I've been looking forward to this tiramisu all day."


	3. Chapter 3

Cath stared at the box in her hands. She couldn't believe it.

Well, maybe she could. She knew better than to underestimate her mother.

"Hey, do you think the black or the gr—" Mary Ann stopped dead in the doorway and raised an eyebrow at the pile of red velvet in Cath's lap. "What is that?"

Cath held up the dress wordlessly, and Mary Ann bit her lip. She hooked her hangers over the door handle and crossed her arms.

"I mean… it's not your style. But it does suit you." Cath stared at her, and Mary Ann shrugged. "Your hair is dark and your skin is light. Dark red makes both of those colors pop. It's a fact."

"But it's got to be at least two sizes too small!" Cath could see it already: her rounded belly straining the stiching, her thighs squeezed together and puddling together like melted ice cream. It made her palms sweat just thinking about it. "I can't go out in this!"

Mary Ann's eyebrows dipped down in a frown. "You haven't even tried it on yet. I think you're exaggerating." She strode over and checked the size on the tag. "It is your size, Cath. You don't have to wear it if you don't feel comfortable, obviously, but I think you should give it a shot." She pursed her lips. "Your mother sent this, didn't she?"

"How did you know," Cath deadpanned. She sighed and shooed Mary Ann out of the room, then she shimmied into the dress. "You're going to have to help me lace up the back," she called, and Mary Ann poked her head in.

"What do you think?" she asked diplomatically as she threaded the ties through the corset-style backing. Cath leaned over to look in the mirror, and Mary Ann yanked on the strings.

"Wait! Let me finish this first before you judge." Cath felt the fabric shift, and then Mary Ann tapped her shoulder. "Alright, now you can look."

Cath chewed her lip and touched the folds of the glittering fabric. It was undeniably attractive: glamourous and a little wild without making her uncomfortable. Her mother knew her way around clothing, that was for sure.

"I… like it," she admitted slowly. A small smile tugged at her lips. "A lot, actually." She smoothed the fabric over her stomach. "You don't think it's too tight, is it?"

With her usual candor, Mary Ann replied, "Maybe a little. But it works." She tugged at the hem of her own sedate black dress just as the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," she offered quickly as a panicked expression flashed across Cath's features.

"Dress, check, lipstick, check, hair—" she frowned and patted her hair. Had she pinned it? The pin poked her palm; that answered that question. "And shoes! Done!"

There was a man she didn't recognize standing in the kitchen. Her kitchen. Inspecting her favorite marble rolling pin!

"Hi, I'm Cath," she said loudly, hoping he would put the rolling down. Gently. Hopefully gently.

The rolling pin thunked against the counter, and Cath flinched.

"Jack."

Cath sized him up: dark jeans, untucked black button-up, black Converse, dark hair tousled in a way that might be intentional but could also simply be the result of a misplaced hairbrush. He was looking at her too, but there was something strange in his gaze. Flat, as though he wasn't quite looking at her, but through her. It made the back of her neck prickle.

Cath pasted on a smile. "So how do you know my mother?"

"Our moms are friends." He ran a finger over her rolling pin again, and Cath suppressed the urge to whack him with it. Assaulting your date with a rolling pin is most definitely wrong. Her mother would disapprove. Vehemently. "We hung out a couple times when we were kids. Don't you remember?"

Cath shook her head slowly. She rarely remembered the playdates her mother had organized for her, though she could recall the delicacies they'd served in honor of the occasion. Her mother never scolded her in front of guests, so she could eat all the treats she wanted: madeleines dipped in chocolate and grated orange zest, tiny raspberry tartlets, white chocolate truffles… Her mouth watered just thinking about it.

The trill of the doorbell interrupted her reverie. "Coming!" Mary Ann called, and Jack squinted at the door.

"Is someone else coming?"

"We're going on a double date." Cath gave him her sweetest smile. "I hope you don't mind."

His grunt made it crystal clear that he did, in fact, mind, but that didn't bother Cath one bit. In fact, it was just icing on the cake. After all, tonight was for Cath and Mary Ann; no distractions.

The metro was crowded; everyone in the city was ready to party on a Friday night, it seemed. The crush crammed the four of them close together like strawberries in jam, and Mary Ann clutched Cath's arm.

"I'd hate to get separated," she half-shouted over the din of the closing doors. "There's at least a hundred people in here!"

"You'll be fine," Jack said deprecatingly. "You're skinny enough to squeeze in."

Cath's jaw dropped. "Don't you know it's rude to comment on someone's size? Especially if this is your first time meeting them?"

Jack cocked his head at her, as though he didn't quite understand. "It's not like I said she was fat. And I didn't say anything about you."

A headache began to press against Cath's temples; suddenly the prospect of an entire evening spent in Jack's company seemed unbearable. What was her mother thinking? Usually the men she picked out had better manners, at least. Mary Ann squeezed her shoulder sympathetically, and Cath sighed. At least they were together.

They stayed silent as the metro car swayed and jostled. Mary Ann's date hadn't looked up from her phone yet, and Cath leaned over to smile at her.

"What did you say your name was again?" she asked cheerily.

The girl's eyes flicked up, then back down again. Her eyeliner was smudged, but Cath thought that might be intentional. Better not to point it out, she decided. It looked a little like melted dark chocolate, and Cath wondered if a smudged chocolate decoration would look stylish or simply silly. Perhaps on a butter cookie..

"Abigail," she muttered. "I'm a friend from work. Don't get excited."

Cath opened her mouth, then closed it again. "Ah."

Mary Ann leaned forward to join the conversation. "That's like telling a kangaroo not to jump. Being excited is just what Cath does." She grinned at her friend, then winked. "I know you were excited about this date."

Cath smothered a giggle. She didn't want to be rude, but at the same time, she had a feeling Jack didn't notice the subtle jab. Anyway, she was excited… Just not for the date part.

The metro doors whooshed open and they poured out like horchata over ice. Mm. I need to get a recipe for that, Cath reminded herself. Mary Ann, ever the picky eater, had argued that watery milk did not sound appealing to her, but Cath had a feeling she could convince her.

They spilled out onto the steps to the old-fashioned little door of the theatre. The street was bright with quaint little lights and gas lanterns, and gentle music lilted from a restaurant a few doors down.

"This is cute," Cath told Mary Ann, who was unclipping the candy-striped alligator clip from their tickets. Mary Ann nodded, only half-listening, as she double-checked the time and the seats.

"We should head in now," she advised. "The show starts in a couple minutes."

The woman at the ticket counter ripped their stubs and handed them back. "Enjoy the show!" she called after them, and Cath beamed at Mary Ann.

"This is going to be so fun," she whispered to her friend, squeezing her hand as the lights dimmed, and a deep voice drowned out anything Mary Ann whispered in reply.

"Welcome, everyone, to the The Court Theatre. Prepare to lose your hearts."


End file.
